


The Scars I Hid Away

by Roxis



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BAMF Rey, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Luke and Rey Are Not Related, May/December Relationship, Mercenaries, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV First Person, Past Child Abuse, Rey Needs A Hug, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 03:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxis/pseuds/Roxis
Summary: Rey Nightrunner, a woman turned from her weak and innocent self when young into a more stronger and terrifying person. She is feared by most, except for one person who she will soon meet often as if destined by Lady Fate.





	The Scars I Hid Away

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an idea I had and I just wanted to write about it. Rey is older here, specifically 28. If violence isn't your thing then I don't think this is for you. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it though.

I should be screaming, I should be running,I should be worried with the pool of blood between my steps, but I’m not. Not with the blade in hand and not within this life of mine.

I carry the lifeless man out to the abandoned streets, while I make sure I see no one in sight. Otherwise, that’d be a problem. My body is slightly numb from the aftereffects of adrenaline coursing in my veins, so my fingers find it difficult to keep a hold on him. I positioned his arms to rest on his chest whilst I place a single pale rose under them. It became signature of my work, how else was I to show the final result to my clients. 

57 people. That’s how much I’ve killed. 58 now with that dead teacher on the ground. A mercenary is what I'm called around this part of the world, an assassin living in the night, playing with my preys. I don't feel guilty for what I've done, It's as simple as carrying out orders to get the job done, for I believe these people deserve the fate I grant them.

I escape the place before anyone sees me. 

____________________

I woke to the sound of the static from my TV and to the brightness of my laptop screen flashing in front of my eyes. It became an unhealthy habit of mine to stay awake at night, waiting for confirmation of my kill while watching some horrendous movies with horrible effects on my small outdated television. I arise from my slumber and my eyes quickly zoom to the chat box on my laptop screen.

‘Thank you for your work, Lady Charon. I have transferred the money to your account. Have a good day.’

I rub my eyes in the wake of dawn, unable to suppress my yawn. I take the TV remote on the desk and switch it to my desire channel, one that has less buzzing noises, and found the news I was eager to see all night before I fell into slumber. ‘Dead teacher found in streets; Lady Charon strikes again?’

The news template says it all and confirms my work to any potential client on the dark web. I again think back to the name of my alter ego displayed on the channel title, I took a liking into that name, Lady Charon. A name that carries the soul of my victims to the afterlife, quite fitting for one such person like me.

I close the chat box until I get further request from a person interested in my works. I doubt majority of the people in this world would ever agree with what I do for a living. Yet, I still continue walking in this drenched path for the one reason of how much I despise this life and the people living in it. Corruption is the word I used, too many are affected by it and I made it my sole duty to wipe it out of existence. I was once given a glimmer of hope, by a man I thought of as the only light in this dark, despairing world. I gave him a pendant for him to remember me by and he smiled. Our meeting was only short lived as he soon left for an urgent mission. Never once did I met him again.

It had been a matter of time before the hope I was given was broken down by the person I hated the most, the man who was purely evil incarnate yet somehow allowed to 'take care of me'. I give my thanks to that ‘man’ for what I am now. Unkar was a true savage, he molded me into who I've become. This alone I give him credit for, the ruthlessness he carved and left visible through the marks and scars which cover my body in an interspersed way, the 'fruits' of his bloody labor. Never in his life did he show a hint of remorse for his actions, not when I looked at him, my stepfather, with pained eyes begging for mercy. Much less if I used my voice for the pleading. All that would earn me was more blows, sometimes harder to get rid of my so called ingratitude. 

Anxiety filled within me when I grew to the age of 18, it was then Unkar assumed my body was ready to take more hits and to be offered by his filthy accomplices for quick bucks. I rebelled at that point one night. It had gone the usual way, with sobs held back as I took multiple beatings, at least until I gave in to my sudden desire to hide the kitchen knife under my ratty blouse and slash his throat as the bastard picked me up from the ground. His life faded from his eyes. In that moment, I felt something new, something unknown to me. My mind cleared and I understood at that moment, with knife in hand, the weird sensation in me: it was peace. I finally felt peace.

I walked to my bathroom in need of a clean bath from how long the mission lasted yesterday, a whole 19 hours before I get the chance to murder my target. Discarding my suit with my weapons and ammos still attached to it, I sank into the now filled tub. Relaxing as the water cleanses my body and I let my head lay back on the tub, only if my skin won’t wrinkle due to how long it was in the water then I would have slept in the tub for an hour or so.

I dry my body off, making sure to have gotten rid any possible evidence used against me in my body, while my only furry companion to keep my company in this place walks in to the bathroom without my permission. Sometimes, it feels like Beebe's catching a glimpse of my soul as he sits down to look at me and I can't help the tinge of frustration that comes when he runs away from me. I’ve always wondered what Beebe sees that strikes fear in him to be cautious near me when I try to carry him, my guess is that he’s looking through my sinister aura. 

Despite his actions, I go to fill BB's empty bowl with food. Sometimes wishing I could hear him say 'thanks', crazy as it sounds. I threw away the towel wrapped around my bare body and put on a black tank top from my closet along with the grey, military track pants. Beebe had almost finished his bowl when I got back to the living room, poor fella must have been starving the whole day yesterday whilst I was on my mission. I fill in the bowl again to compensate for my absence yesterday and hope the cat won't grow fat from the huge amount of food consumed.

In the company of BB, or at least what I like to call it as he chews his food on the floor, I started reading my novel where I left off. There's not much to do and I have requested the approval of my boss to take a day off today from the diner I work not too far from here. With nothing to do and no blood to spill, I read the last chapter of my book where I had found out that the main character of the book had accepted the marriage proposal of her love interest even after her father had offered her money to cancel it, I was ever more confused as to why she still loves him when he had ruined her plans before the climax of the story. 

Of course, given my background, I fail to understand love and the concept itself. It is a lie to say that I've never wanted to try and understand what love is for my self, but I then realized that love was not made for my world. I do not need it, not for my life. 

I threw the crappy book into the trash bin where it belong and by the slim chance that I was assigned to kill the author, I would gladly do so in a heartbeat.

The laptop buzzes the next second, it's vibration and bell chime ringtone brought music to my ears. Hastily, I open my device and see the message popping up in the chat box. Details of my next target, ranging from eye and hair color to his shoe size, though that last bit of information might not be necessary. And while the picture of him may seem new to me, the person sending me this favor wasn't.

It was from Snoke. A favorite customer of mine. It isn't the first time he sent me out there to kill, nor will it be the last.

Though among his victims, this one seems to be the most important one. Cause if my eyes aren’t tricking me, he's paying me about a million dollars to get the guy named ‘Luke Skywalker’ killed.

‘Pretty high for your standards, what makes him so special?’ I reply to him.

‘Someone that should have been minding his own business.” he responded.

To find out he's pissed is a rare sight to see, not once have I seen that hard shell of his crack. Quickly this Skywalker peaked my interest, sadly that isn't a big enough reason to decline his request. I replied to him my acceptance.

I pull up my bed used to store my weapons under the mattress, I find that part of my bed more useful compared to sleeping on it. I take in my sniper rifle, custom made to accommodate perfectly with my standards. My suit on and I bid my cat farewell before leaving my apartment, he gave me a hiss in return. 

“Grumpy little bastard,” I mutter under my breath. 

____________________

I gaze on the brilliance of the night sky while I waited for my assigned target to come out from the building across where I am. Sometimes, I think back to the sin I am about to commit, but I wonder many times about how my life has turned to be like this. Clearly this isn’t all about money, nor the feeling of being powerful. It's about setting the rules, and I'm here to dispose of those who don’t follow them. Those who are unjust.

I regret nothing from what I've done, incapable of feeling sorry for anyone affected by my actions as I am sure those that I had killed were no better than what I am.

An hour passed by before I glanced down on the minimally lighted street to see the dark figure strolling out of the building. Not a moment too soon, and I marked him through the scope of my rifle. Never had I hesitated to pull the trigger in the right moment.

But now my body froze in the short moment. I looked through the scope once more to focus on his chest which I had marked. He’s using a pendant, one so familiar I hardly believe it to be possible. I ran down the stairs.

I'm outside and he crossed to my street. Our eyes meet and I see his are blue, just like the details listed but more importantly, the blue in my memories from 13 years ago. He seems confused, as am I, but now he becomes cautious as I aim my handgun at him without a second thought. He’s not scared as he raises his arms in the air, his body language not indicating any fear. This isn’t the game of cat and mouse I always indulge in.

“I'm not going to hurt you”

He lowers his hand slowly, but he knows not to act anything dumb. I take the pendant off of him, he flinched through his poker face when I did so, the item is of value to him.

I move back to examine the same glittering, star shaped pendant I held 13 years ago, the one I had given away. I looked back at him to identify the match with the rightful owner of the pendant. He had the same blue eyes, but his hair is a mix of brown and grey instead of the dirty blond. He grows a messy beard unlike the bared face gentleman and his body shape is bigger now, yet I know this is the same person.

He’s wondering too, and I wonder if he remembers me.

“What’s my name?” I said softly.

He’s quiet.

“The girl!” I barked, “The one who gave you this pendant in the morning of your patrol 13 years ago. What’s her name!?”

He paused for a moment before he answered with what I had hope he wouldn’t say. “Rey. Rey Nightrunner.”

I find myself lost with his answer, unable to figure out what to do with this information. Conflicting thoughts surging in my head and with little time, I take my phone out, dialing the same person that had caused this. He picks up my call, eager for a response of the annihilation of his target, but I responded with the opposite.

“The deal is off, you can have your money back.”

I say all of this with Luke, I think it's his name, still standing beside me. The voice on the other end is not as silent as him however, “This wasn't our deal. If you won't do it, then I'll handle with someone better!”

I retaliate in a state of anger, “He's off limits! if you would dare so to lay a finger on him, you being in jail for your crimes is the least of your worries!”

I ended our call. I threw the pendant back at Luke, no longer do I need that object, nor do I need to keep a possession of his with me. I walk away in hopes he does not follow me.

But he does, and quickly I jolted from the place. I hear him call out my name, but I didn't stop. Only when he lost me in a chase did he stop looking for me, I hid quietly beside the small space in between buildings. I return frantically to my place, unable to comprehend what had just happened. I entered my room and I let my head sunk on the pillow of my couch to groan. I feel weak and vulnerable, my mind wonders how this will ultimately affect with my chosen career. But not for so long and immediately I sleep through the night again with my TV on and Beebe curled up next to me.

I say something that I would have never thought I would say. “Your fur is so fluffy, Beebe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you must, highly appreciate it.


End file.
